


Rigor Samsa

by thefandomexpert



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Kidfic, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 05:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13000572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefandomexpert/pseuds/thefandomexpert
Summary: Varus hadn’t registered the fact that there was a juvenile on the field until his hosts had ruined a shot; the bolt went wide and hit the youngling in the shoulder. He had to struggle against his hosts to kill the rest of the guards, an annoyance but one he was gradually accepting, but left the youngling alone.So now it was just him and the small human. Who was still alive. And staring at him.(Varus stumbles on younglings, human children, and finds that Val and Kai's emotions can affect his just as much as he affects theirs.)





	1. Monachopsis

**Author's Note:**

> 'Murder demon accidentally takes gay honeymooners on extended road trip.docx'
> 
> ((Hey, go read Varus' short story. Ok, now did you catch that part where he doesn't kill the unarmed civilians because it makes Kai and Val flip their shit? Yes that bit. Mix that with that one SPN storyline where crowley turns human and has an emotional breakdown every five minutes and my apparent need to give every character I love approximately as many children as I can possibly fit in a scene and that's it, that's the fic.))
> 
> I love the new lore, and I love my boy, so here I am writing fic for the first time in like two years. This is going to be super self indulgent, consider yourself warned.
> 
> 'Varus' refers to both the darkin bow and the combined one-in-three entity as a whole, and 'he' and 'they' are both used for the entity and its parts at different occasions. Have fun figuring that out!
> 
> Darkin!Varus Thoughts  
> < Valmar Thoughts >  
> (Kai Thoughts)  
> "Varus Voice"

The last man dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. Varus watched the blood pool under the body for a moment before his eyes pulled themselves away from the carnage. The hosts’ fault. Instead, his eyes alighted on the remainders of the caravan. They’d come across this little gathering in the woods and Varus had enjoyed ripping through their defenses until the children had appeared. Varus hadn’t registered the fact that there was a juvenile on the field until his hosts had ruined a shot; the bolt went wide and hit the youngling in the shoulder. He had to struggle against his hosts to kill the rest of the guards, an annoyance but one he was gradually accepting, but left the youngling alone.

So now it was just him and the small human. Who was still alive. And staring at him.

Varus blinked.

(He’s hurt!)

That was the strong one, Kai.

The youngling (boy) shifted and winced, an involuntary gasp dragging out of his throat as he jostled his shoulder.

Varus stepped forward before he was able to stop himself. He got flashes of memories, steady fingers working a needle, the methodical process of cleaning a wound, the tug of thick thread through flesh. Varus furrowed his brow, and shoved both of their memories back.

Kai was insistent though. In the beginning, Varus had focused mostly on Valmar. He was the easier to convince to his cause, more inclined to the hatred Varus operated under, but the darkin had quickly learned that his partner was more of a problem than anticipated.Valmar’s heartlight steadied him, holding fast when he wavered. The two mortals fed off each other, a constant feedback loop of strength and support.

Kai was a lot more trouble than his partner.

(It’ll get infected, we should see if they have supplies.)

Supplies? He had revenge to exact, he didn’t have time to-

(You shot him, we’re helping. He’s a child.)

Varus growled.

<We need food and water, too,> Val reminded the darkin.

Fine. Whatever.

Varus stalked past the boy, who flinched as he approached, pulled back the flap on one of carts, and stopped dead.

Kai’s response was like nothing Varus had felt before. Where Val’s was the all-encompassing tidal wave of anger Varus often felt himself, the emotion that unseated him now was an overwhelming mix, piercing sadness weaved under a simmering fury all carefully focused into a singular sort of determination. Even Val seemed to be backing down in the face of his partner’s force.

Varus caught information from the mortals in fractions, and Val gave him a word over Kai’s emotional turmoil.

<Slaves.>

Varus did not feel the sadness that seemed to plague the mortals, but he was...unsettled. Yes that was the word. Darkin didn’t have this in their culture, there was only death waiting for their enemies at the end of the battle. The black bow creaked under his tight grip.

The people in the cart were younglings, like the one outside. All of them were dressed in rags, all were covered in dirt and grime. They were dangerously thin, and around their wrists and ankles there were thick, heavy manacles chained together. One of the smaller ones whimpered and curled away from him, but they seemed too weak to actually lift the iron. Spoils of war, if he was to understand his companions correctly. Their families were most likely dead, maybe their entire village. They were being held now, to be given to whoever would use them.

Like him. Like the bow. Like the well.

Varus felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest, and he had to fight to refocus his own mind. Suddenly angry at his own lack of control, Varus wrenched himself back in control of the body and let the cover fall shut again and turned back to the other carts.

These were filled with supplies, thankfully, and not more younglings. Varus looked at the barrels of food and drink for a minute with a frown.

…

What was he looking for again?

Varus studiously ignored the confusion and cautious gratitude from Kai as the mortal realized what was happening.

(Medical supplies, they’ll be here.)

Varus let Kai use the body to search the cart. Kai’s emotions had retreated back towards their usual muddled levels. Val still seemed uneasy. After a few awkward moments, they found the box of medical supplies. He extracted a few pieces from the box and then climbed down.

The boy was still leaning against the wheel of the other cart. He was holding his shoulder tightly, sniffing on every other breath. He looked at Varus with dull, red-rimmed eyes, and tried to pull his battered knees further up to his chest.

<There was an empty pair of restraints in the cart,> Val noted.

(He must have tried to make a run for it.)

Varus could feel Val’s admiration for the boy. He pushed it back.

He likewise ignored the pity that shot through Val’s consciousness when the boy flinched away from them as he kneeled in front of him. He wondered briefly at Kai’s flash of anger as he was able to see the damage, of which his arrow was only a portion, and reached out to touch him.

“No!” The boy’s voice was high and sharp, crackling through the relative silence of the area.

Varus jerked back, cursing in his head, first at being startled, then at the mortal souls’ soft but definite amusement.

“Stop that!” Varus didn’t know if he was talking to the boy or to his companions.

The boy gave him a look.

(You _shot_ him, you can’t just-)

Kai actually got their body to roll its eyes.

“Hey,” Varus mentally huffed, but let Kai soften their voice and relax their shoulders. “Hey, listen we didn’t mean to hit you, I’d like to fix it, if you’d let me.”

The boy glanced at the bow, then back up to their face.

“We won’t hurt you, I promise,” Kai held out a hand, not moving to touch the boy but giving the option. “And then we can let your friends go, too.

That seemed to get the boy’s attention. He shifted against the wheel. “You,” his voice cracked a little, “killed them.” He didn’t sound too disappointed.

“Yes,” Varus narrowed his eyes.

The boy licked his bloody lips. “Why?”

“They killed my people.” He held the boy’s gaze for a moment and silently disliked the way he seemed to understand.

“Ok.” The boy said finally. His hand fell away from his shoulder. That apparently was the cue, and at Kai’s mental nudge, Varus leaned forward and poked at the wound that tore through his flesh of his upper arm. The boy winced, but let him work.

The worst part was cleaning the wound. Varus watched with a morbid fascination as they took a piece of cloth, soaked it in water, then alcohol, and then began to clean the hole. The boy whimpered and wined, and Val made nonsense shushing sounds.

Kai lied?

No, he found the information in both their thoughts, the alcohol cleaned but it alighted the nerves. That seems counterproductive. Shouldn’t they have evolved out of this?

Then Varus sewed the wound shut. Muscle memory apparently had transferred, and Kai’s fingers were just as steady as they had been in the snatches of memory the darkin had caught from the mortals.

This isn’t what Varus remembered, though. He had seen the people use magic to heal, before.

<Well if we could use magic, we would.>

So those who didn’t have magic had their own ways of compensating. Interesting.

The wound was dressed and wrapped before Kai was pleased with their work. The boy had grown quiet again, but he was still conscious.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, try not to move.”

The boy nodded but Varus frowned.

That mattered?

(Bleeding out isn’t fun.)

There was no point to a slow death.

(Not what I meant but good to know.)

<We should look for the keys. One of the guards has to have it.>

To free the younglings in the cart. Right.

It didn’t take Varus long to pinch the keys from one of the cooling bodies. He returned to the cart and refused to hesitate to lift the flap again.

There were maybe fifteen-odd younglings. They looked at him silently again, some in terror but mostly just blank. He reached for the one nearest to him but she shrunk back and scrambled to get away. Some of the bigger younglings actually leaned forward, pulling at their bonds as if they could push past the other bodies to reach her. One in particular seemed particularly distressed at his choice of target.

<They’re sisters, I think.>

Varus stopped trying to reach the girl.

(Try the older one first.)

He stepped up onto the cart and the younglings cowered back from the dark matter on his legs. He crouched in front of the bigger girl, and looked at her. She stared back, terrified, but clearly determined not to back down. She kept her limbs close to her body, and struggled when Varus grabbed one arm and pulled it towards him. It only took a moment for him to unlock the manacle and remove his offending grip. The girl looked at her wrist and then back to Varus, confused and distrustful.

Val held out their hand, the same way Kai had done for the boy. “It’s alright now, they’re gone.”

(The bodies!) Kai broke through their shared headspace in a mild panic.

What about the bodies.

<We’ll take care of it.> Must be a human thing, then,

She let him unlock her other wrist without a word.

“The woods are dangerous,” they told her as she cautiously let them access to the ones on her ankles, “please don’t run, alright?”

She nodded, and stayed still when the last restraint was removed.

“Here,” Varus held the keys out to her, “You can free the rest of them. Stay in here, though, alright?”

She snatched the keys with wide eyes and nodded quickly.

“There was a boy,” another youngling spoke up as Varus was stepping down. “He got out, did you-“

“I shot him.”

(VARUS.)

<Oh gods.>

“-Accidentally. He’ll be fine.”

He let the flap fall back.

Varus surveyed the damage outside. There were enough bodies strewn out over the grass to make him wrinkle his nose. The boy was using the wheel to pull himself to his feet.

“I thought we told you to stay still?”

The boy gave Varus a baleful glance and mumbled something that might have been ‘m fine,’ which only seemed to agitate the mortals.

Varus moved towards him. Val and Kai both seemed to think along the same lines, that the boy would fall and hurt himself worse.

“Hey, what are yo-”

The boy cut off as he was neatly swept up of the ground.

Oh.

The boy was heavier than Varus expected, warm and living in the strange way mortals were, soft and solid at the same time. The boy apparently decided holding on was preferable to being dropped, and he hooked his good arm around Varus’ neck to pull himself up to a more comfortable position. He looked up at him with wide eyes.

Why was he looking at him like that? It’s not like Varus knew what was going on!

Well he knew, sort of. Mortals were touchy creatures, he’d picked out memories of this sort of thing before from Kai and Val; younglings seeking warmth and comfort in the arms of a parent, greetings between allies, playful interaction among friends. Even when he’d ripped them apart to make them anew, the two had insisted on being in physical contact with one another.

Darkin didn’t do that.

But now there was a youngling huddled up to his chest and he’d never even _seen_ a darkin youngling before did human younglings work like their older counterparts _what was he even doing_?

<The cart, we shouldn’t have left him out with all these bodies.>

Oh, ok.

Varus lifted the boy over the back of the cart and let him down. The girl was working on the last few restraints, and several other younglings scrambled to check him over.

“I told you you should have waited!” The one who’d asked about the boy earlier admonished. The boy grumbled but let the other youngling poke at his clean bandages.

Varus didn’t take long to clear the bodies. He didn’t bother burying them, but he moved them out of the clearing, far enough away that scavenging predators wouldn’t need to bother them to get to it. He found a few of the horses, who had spooked when he’d attacked, and Val managed to get them back to the clearing. At this point, he was starting to feel the gnawing in his abdomen that signified hunger, but the mortals had him ignore it for once. Instead he got several packs of rations and a few waterskins and peeked back in the youngling’s cart. They’d shoved the discarded manacles off to the corner and were slowly stretching out. Most of them hadn’t moved far, though.

“You’re a doctor, mister?” the girl he’d given the keys to asked.

Varus frowned. Was he?

“Not quite, but I know enough,” Kai admitted.

The girl was still a little skittish. “Some of us are hurt.”

Varus nodded. “I have food,” he offered instead.

That got some attention. Suddenly there were several small voices asking about food and reaching for him over the partition with little hands. Varus shoved the goods at them and let go quickly.

Val and Kai dragged them into helping them again, though, and soon he was stepping back among the small bodies. They washed the children as well as they could with the water and cloth. Beneath the dirt, their skin was battered and bruised in odd ways, and Varus felt his companions bristle every time the younglings flinched or made to pull away. He learned some of their names. The key girl was called Aimel, and her little sister was Saree. The boy he’d shot was Kaeden. After that, Varus grabbed food for himself and, after tossing the irons unceremoniously out of the cart, settled back to eat.

Gnawing on their own food, the younglings watched him warily.

“...So,” Kaeden addressed Varus. The other younglings froze, the soft broken conversations cutting off as all eyes turned to them. “What are you?”

What was he? He knew what Varus, the darkin, was, of course, but what was Varus, the conglomerate, the three-in-one? What were _they_?

They shrugged. “Not human,” he decided.

(Not anymore,) Kai added.

Aimel took a bite of jerky. “Do you have a name?”

They nodded. “Varus.”

“Thank you for freeing us, Varus,” she said. Varus frowned as the younglings awake and brave enough to speak offered their thanks as well. He hadn’t done it on purpose.

He acknowledged their thanks with a nod of his head. He’d never been thanked before. It wasn’t painful.

One of the younglings jerked and made a very loud sound.

<That would be a sneeze.>

(The sun’s going down,) Kai pulled their lips down into a frown, (it’ll start getting cold.)

Yes, cold. The cold was uncomfortable.

It also meant he was getting tired. Humans measured time in days, a day was a full sun cycle. Supposedly, humans slept once a day, and while Varus could certainly stay conscious longer than that, he’d involuntarily passed out after ignoring that particular need for a full month. Now, he was certain to allow his body it’s recovery time at regular intervals. It had been more than a few days since the last time he’d felt safe enough to stop.

<It will be warmer in the carts. I bet there are blankets somewhere, too.>

Varus did find a stack of large blankets in the supply cart. He brought them back and let the bigger younglings distribute them among the group while he situated himself in his corner. Varus yawned, a strange involuntary reaction to exhaustion that he blamed entirely on his new body. Now that his companions weren’t so insistent on worrying about the younglings, his limbs were starting to feel heavy. This happened too, along with the mental exhaustion, more common, in fact, was the physical.

This body had limitations.

The cart was relatively small, and with an extra body it was even worse. Most of the younglings piled together without a problem, but they seemed to naturally avoid Varus, which was fine by him.

(Some of the children are sick, I think. There’s a town a few miles out where we can get them proper medical care.)

‘We’ can get them proper medical care?

...

Oh now you’re quiet.

<We’ll decide what to do with the kids tomorrow, for now we need to sleep.>

Varus could not find fault with that, and he settled, uneasily, back to drift off into the abyss of sleep.


	2. Lachesism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that feeling when you find out your internet friends ages and they're like,,,wildly different from what you imagined and you have to stop to think about your life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no I wasn't expecting to get noticed. I have nothing (good) planned out for this I hope you're all ready for my inability to write slow character arcs.

Waking up was a strange affair. You could feel things and remain unaware of them at the same time as your body and mind restarted in stages. The mortals were more accustomed to operating a half-awake being, and they usually took advantage of that until Varus had re-acclimated himself to his situation.

So it took him a moment to register the fact that he was surrounded by small, warm bodies. One of them was currently using his arm as a pillow.

 Varus didn’t dare to breathe. Both of his hosts were tense, ready to fight for control of the body if he even so much as thought about hurting her. He wasn’t going to. The younglings weren’t his targets. Granted he’d been strangely docile with them up to this point, but he wasn’t about to look into why, no matter how curious his hosts were.

 They did, however, make him panic. Just a little.

 Val huffed, and adjusted the youngling off their arm. She rolled into his side and settled there, instead.

 You’re...good with younglings.

 <I had a big family.> Varus caught flashes of memories from Valmar, younglings and elders alike. The memories felt warm in a way the darkin had never experienced.

 The youngling shifted again and made a noise under her breath.

 <It’s just a kid, big guy. Relax.>

 It’s just a- sure, sure. As if younglings were common.

 <Well they’re not uncommon.>

 Were they? How often did mortals reproduce?

 His companions gave the mental equivalent of a shrug.

 (Depends I guess? They can have kids multiple times during a lifespan, but not everyone has kids.)

 Varus furrowed his brow. Right, mortals had lifespans because they died anyway. How long was a lifespan?

 (Again, depends. I’d say maybe 97 as an average? But magic and technology can make you live longer.)

 97?

 (Years.)

 Which were?

 (365 days.)

 Days, by the sun calendar, ok. And...how old were you two?

 (22, Val will be 23 shortly, if I’ve been keeping track of time correctly.)

<Adults, but on the young side,> Val added helpfully.

So the younglings-

(Oh Aimel can’t be older than 13, and I think she’s the oldest out of all of them.)

 

“Uh.” Valmar jerked a little as he suddenly found himself in the driver’s seat. One of the boy’s knees were digging into their back so he shifted around until they were comfortable again. The girl curled by their chest scratched at the stitching on her cheek and they pulled her hand away gently before she could do any damage.

(I think we broke him?) Kai sounded mildly panicked. The darkin was still there, but for the first time he was completely quiet.

<Well gee, if that’s all it took-> Val shook their head.

They peeked out of the cart and took in the morning sun creeping towards the center of the sky.

“W’ time is it?” That was the kid who has asked about Kaeden before, Nahm.

Varus made a face. “Not too early. We slept in.”

Nahm yawned and blinked. “Why d’ya do tha’?” they asked.

“Do what?”

“Say ‘we.’”

Val had forgotten how weird that must sound.

“Oh uh,” Varus looked at the girl next to them. She was waking gradually but was lucid enough to appear interested in their response. They shrugged. “We are the three-in-one.”

The kids looked at him.

(That sounded a lot dumber out loud.)

<Thanks, sweetheart.>

“Huh,” Nahm blinked, and then pulled the blanket tighter around their shoulders.

The other children began to wake up. Some had an easier time than others. The ones who were too weak to wake were checked on and tucked under extra blankets. Varus did a sweep around the clearing and returned to the children with more rations from the other cart. Kai and Val worked in tandem, constantly surprised at how easy control was now that they were missing a piece; the two of them were certainly not a hive-mind, but they knew each other far better than they knew their companion. Even so, the silence was odd, almost unsettling after so long. They were all making their way through breakfast by the time the darkin’s presence returned.

Kai needled him first. (Hey there.)

He stayed quiet.

(Alright then fine, don’t tell us what that was about.)

I am glad you agree with my sentiments.

Val pulled his heartlight’s attention back to the real world before he could get snappier. They finished eating and Kai enlisted the children better off to help feed the ones too hurt to do so themselves. They felt no reaction from Varus as he watched the proceedings from the mental backseat.

They pulled the children’s story from them in stages. Most, but not all of them, had been taken a few weeks ago from the same village, which had predictably been razed quite thoroughly. Some of them, though, had been with the caravan for much longer.

(They need actual medical care, Val. Field medicine can only do so much for stuff like this.)

Val thought it was amazing how that terrible, awful, sinking feeling in your gut could still exist even when you weren’t currently in control of a body. They brushed the hair of a too-skinny six-year-old who’d collapsed on their thigh after a violent coughing fit.

<...There’s a town not far from here right? Like, a proper Ionian city. They’ll have healers.>

Neither of them seemed willing to voice the obvious; namely that their companion would most likely not work with them on this, perhaps even the opposite.

The boy on their hip hacked again, blood on his lips, and Aimel pursed hers from the other side of the cart.

“They don’t last long after that starts,” she told them sadly. “His older sister went the same way.”

Varus moved the child out of the way.

<Wait-!> Val said as the darkin began to exit the cart.

We need to keep moving. We were looking for my sister.

Nahm looked up at them, alarmed, as they climbed over the back of the cart. “Hey, where are you going?”

(We can’t leave them here,) Kai argued.

We shouldn’t care.

(And yet.)

A brief wave of anger washed over the hosts, the mental equivalent of a particular rude gesture.

(He got that one from you.)

<Hush.>

Varus’ countenance darkened as his hosts struggled against his determination to leave. There was a soft chorus of cries from some of the children as they watched him go. Val was beginning to slip into frustrated anger, but that only served the darkin’s purpose.

(Varus, you’re the dumbest being I’ve ever met, and I know Val.) Kai snapped.

Varus grit his teeth.

Explain.

(Listen, you’re just going to leave a whole cart of supplies sitting out here? We need food too you know.)

Varus was loath to admit it, but sometimes Kai was useful.

Alright. We’ll take the supplies, then.

<And leave the children?>

They are not my concern!

“So you’re leaving.” Aimel didn’t even look surprised.

“Yes,” Varus spat out, fighting his hosts for every syllable.

Saree immediately burst into tears.

“You should have shot us all yesterday, then!” Kaeden cried, and Varus was suddenly on the receiving end of the righteous anger he was so used to feeling himself.

He actually thought about correcting his mistake.

(Varus, listen to me,) Kai forced his focus inward, away from the crying children, made him drop the bow back to his side again. (The supplies are too heavy to carry. If you move everything into one cart you can hook the horses up again and ride comfortably.)

You want me to bring the children to the city.

(I thought you didn’t care about them.)

I don’t.

Kai exuded a cat-like smugness. (So you won’t mind if they just happen to tag along, then.)

Kai was not useful, he was a complete and utter menace and Varus should never have agreed to take him as a host.

<I love you.>

Ugh. But as much as Varus’ instincts screamed at him that this was a Bad Idea, Kai was completely right. They needed supplies. A cart could carry more, and they’d travel faster. The hosts would be appeased as long as the children remained unharmed, and he wasn’t planning on killing them in the first place. There was quite literally no downside.

“Fine.”

Varus very specifically did not look at the children as he stalked off towards the supplies. He would not give his hosts the inevitable satisfaction. It took him all of twenty minutes to load the salvageable supplies into the other cart. His hosts hung back as he worked with a sullen determination; they seemed to understand it would be best not to push him any farther. They did help him harness the horses, and explain the concept of domesticated animals.

Humans were weird.

(We just like to go fast, ok?)

Varus took the reins without hesitation, despite his misgivings on the collaboration of species totally incapable of communicating properly.

“...Varus? Oh.” Nahm shrunk back against the flat glare Varus sent his way. “You’re different.”

There were three minutes of relative silence as the cart lurched forward and the horses strained, and the darkin felt a dull sort of pleasure that he’d managed to scare the younglings off.

Nahm shifted so he could lean over the front partition.. “So where are we going?”

This was going to be a very, very long trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varus: WE NEED AN ADULT  
> val + kai: YOU ARE THE ADULT  
> Varus: WE NEED A BETTER ADULT


	3. Liberosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YOUCAN'TCATCHMEHUMANTHOUGHTS.doc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler episode  
> (short chapter, whoops, but i'm already working on the next one so don't worry i'm not losing steam i just?? want to make this seem longer than it actually is lmao)  
> Also s/o to my college friend who beta'd my weird video game fanfiction again

They made their way through the forest slowly. Val and Kai quickly grew bored, retreating into their own shared headspace confident in Varus’ lack of interest in the children. 

They were a little bit wrong. Varus wasn’t going to risk angering his hosts, but he found the younglings fascinating, and watched distractedly as they settled back to watch the scenery pass by or sat in groups to hold quiet conventions about gods knew what.

Nahm ran his fingers through his tawny hair in an attempt to take the worst of the tangles out. Aimel had dragged him away before, but it hadn’t been long before the boy had clambered back up beside him, and this time he had the gall to perch himself next to Varus on the driver’s seat. Thankfully, he’d kept mostly quiet, but his presence alone was enough to distract the darkin. 

“What are you staring at?”

Oh, had he been staring?

<Yeah. Eyes on the road.>

Varus made a face and turned his attention back to the road. “Younglings are not common among my species,” he muttered instead.

“What’s your species?” Nahm leaned forward with interest.

“Darkin.”

“Never heard of ‘em.”

“I know. Your lifespans are insignificant to ours.” Varus studiously ignored his hosts’ immediate presence.

“So, like, how long do you live? Have you been here a long time? What was it like back then? Did you know anyone famous?”

Varus gritted his teeth. “My kind fought yours to the point of defeat, and then she  _ enslaved  _ us and _ you _ imprisoned us as trophies.” Varus felt a strange tightness in his chest, the one that was like the anger but not. “And then you died and you  _ forgot _ .” The last word was a barely understandable growl. Nahm cowered from him. The bow was shaking and Varus’ teeth were bared.

Heartbeats and warm hands, murmured words and the press of a forehead against his own. Phantom images from memories that weren’t his had him deflating alarmingly quickly, the tightness unraveling into something else. It was close enough to exhaustion that Varus let Kai say what he wanted to.

“It’s….difficult. To talk about the past.”

Nahm nodded, still leaning away from him. “...I understand.” He sounded like he did. Nahm stayed still, and after a moment he moved back with the other children.

(He was just curious.)

They knew that.

Varus furrowed his brow. The unease in his gut wasn’t alleviated. For a moment, Varus was distracted at the sheer inconvenience of the idea of emotions turned into physical sensations.

<Yeah, that sucks.>

His hosts paid more attention after that, closer to the forefront of his consciousness. They were still uncomfortably close to one another, and Varus tried to ignore the intimate little exchanges between the two mortals; wordless conversations that he was entirely sure he wasn’t supposed to hear. Val and Kai had none of his emotional qualms, and even nudged him occasionally with a mild blend of reluctant concern and affection.

Why were mortals so odd.

Besides that unpleasantness, traveling with the younglings actually wasn’t bad. They made noise, sure, but most mortals did, and as long as the noises weren’t directed at him Varus didn’t mind. The younglings got hungry much quicker than Varus did. He watched them with the rations only to ensure they didn’t eat everything.

Night passed and the younglings got quieter. The little boy with the bad cough ended up away from the rest of the pile, and Val eventually gave him a second blanket. Varus let him fuss over the tiny thing because they weren’t doing anything else anyway; the cart couldn’t be driven safely in the low light.

The next day continued much like the first. Kai asked about the coughing boy, but he’d been from a different village and his sister had died before the others got to know her. His name had been Lost, a concept which Varus found immensely disturbing. Names had power, to lose a name was to lose oneself. Perhaps that was why the boy’s body was failing? Valmar told him no, but the darkin didn’t entirely believe him. Regardless, the boy did not have a name, so Valmar labeled the child ‘the coughing boy’ in their head and that was that.

Night came again and Varus stayed up to watch, situating himself next to the coughing boy, still exiled out of the pile. 

On the third day Kai spotted a creek.

(We might as well.)

Hm. 

Whenever the hosts insisted they’d bathe, Varus didn’t pay too much attention. They didn’t  _ need _ to do it, as much as the mortals insisted that  _ yes they absolutely did _ , but it was nice to be rid of the dirt and grime that inevitably accumulated on a physical form. Most of the younglings seemed to think the same thing, and they eagerly followed him into the shallows.

“It’s too cold!” One of the boys shrieked as Aimel splashed him.

“Stop being such a baby, Ji, it’s not that bad,” she scolded.

Kaeden popped up behind her with a wicked grin. “And besides, you stink!” He stuck out his tongue, just for good measure.

Ji huffed and scrunched his freckled nose.

“Come on now,” Val coaxed, “they’ve got a point. You’re all more than a little filthy.”

When Ji refused to budge, Val pulled up a memory of a similar instance with his siblings, and before Kai could stop either of them, Varus had picked the child up and unceremoniously dropped him in a deeper section. It was a panicked Kai that rescued the flailing child and helped him as he clambered onto Varus for support.

(Val, he doesn’t know how to swim!)

Val just shifted Ji so the shivering thing could cling more comfortably. <Nothing’s gonna happen to him, we’re right here,> he said, and then reiterated as much to the kid, who was pouting magnificently.

Kai was a little touchy after that, and he kept looking back at the cart a few feet away, where they’d left the worst of the younglings. Varus hung back, unwilling to deal with both the child on his hip and Kai’s weird separation anxiety.

<Parental instinct.>

Whatever that was.

Valmar gave a mental huff and turned back to Ji.

“You keep switching,” the child muttered, “like you’re different people.”

Val hummed in agreement. “We are. Sort of.”

“You’re nicer than the other one.”

Valmar beamed at him. “Thanks!”

Rude.

<You don’t care.>

Varus didn’t. But on principle, it was still rude.

They bathed relatively quickly, and the day was nice enough that it wasn’t too horribly uncomfortable to air-dry. When Ji finally loosened his death grip around Varus’ shoulders, they set him on the shore and trudged up to inspect the remaining members of their party.

Surrounded by such a picturesque scene, their sickness seemed more apparent. Their sallow cheeks and dark, ugly bruises stood out starkly against the greens and browns of the earth and the yellow glow of the midday sun. Varus didn’t know what to do with that or the odd feeling in his chest which had inconveniently resurfaced, so he let his hosts administer sponge baths and replace bandages and salves.

Val and Kai were getting antsy; Varus could tell because their thoughts were starting to push into his.  _ They needed to get to town. They needed to get to town.  _ A mantra that ran through their shared mindscape as they tended to them, anxiety and a different sort of worry filtering through their bond and annoying the darkin thoroughly. Thankfully, most of the sick ones were just weak, bruised and starving but already getting better. The coughing boy though-

They were running out of time.

That night saw Varus the most on edge he’d been since before he’d met the children. They camped again, and though none of them were pleased with that decision it was necessary to rest the horses. Valmar was snappy and Kai was sullen, and being in between the two wasn’t any more fun than being stuck with them when they were in a good mood. At least he wasn’t tired; he couldn’t imagine having to sleep every day like the younglings did.

There was something in the forest. Bow in hand, Varus left his sentinel spot next to the coughing boy and climbed off of the cart. He wasn’t sure what he’d heard but something told him it wasn’t the usual woodland animal. Val and Kai were alert, their presences strong, but they didn’t interfere; Varus was a better fighter than either of them had ever been.

“Varus?” Aimel rubbed her eye as she peeked, sleepily, out of the cart.

Varus shot her a look and she shrank back. In the low light his narrowed eyes glowed fantastically, dangerous and inhuman. Aimel shrunk back.

“Stay there.” Varus turned his attention back to the surroundings. He spread his senses in a familiar gesture, searching for a target among the shrubbery.

The bow hummed low, eager.

The forest was silent. Oddly so. Varus summoned an arrow. The feeling in his gut had gotten worse. Something wasn’t right, and he knew it. The noise must have woken more children because he heard more hushed whispers from the cart, urgent and sleep-slurred. He moved closer to the treeline, careful. The shadows moved and leapt against his harsh red-violet light.

Varus only had time to register the burn of the gash down his arm before his consciousness folded in on itself and rolled back into his headspace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO  
> also during my research I read that Kayn's visual development was based on amon from devilman and I almost had a conniption.

**Author's Note:**

> You can check out my terrible art at megsdoodletag.tumblr.com, or you can talk to me at thefandomexpert.tumblr.com! I have so many ideas about the darkin and all of them are probably wrong.


End file.
